blog girl to the rescue

Ok, cough syrup induced confession time.

Even sick, I laugh at myself. And I’m not just talking about when I fall down.
But I laugh then too. No, I’m talking about laughing at my own jokes. Or laughing at my own reflection in the mirror when I have tissues stuffed up my nose to keep it from running. I know we aren’t supposed to admit such crimes against humanity, but I do it.
And damn it, I’ll do it again.

How could I possibly deny the humor in botched bikini waxes, flooding
the stove, or getting locked out of the house in my underwear? (And
yes, that really did happen.)

I skim through my old blogs sometimes and just laugh until I cry. I
pretend it wasn’t me struggling with a pair of homicidal pantyhose, or
attempting to do contortionist type moves on a fireman’s pole (wait…back
up…not a “fireman’s” pole…I’m referring to a pole like the one firemen
slide down. Oh, you know what I mean.)

I just run through blogs and laugh. At me.

When I’m not laughing, I’m writing things that will make me laugh.
And if it makes me laugh, I can only hope it will make you laugh too. I
have the best job ever…even if I haven't been paid a dime, yet, to do it. I
am a full time writer/blogger who laughs at herself all day long.

In some alternate reality, you would likely find me locked in a
padded cell where I would be pumped full of happy juice while being
spoon-fed by men in white coats. All to keep me safe from the
inevitable self-inflicted bikini wax.

But bumps, bruises and wax burns aside, I’m perfectly content to live
where I am, juggling kids, pets, a husband, housework, writing, and
life in general, all while somehow managing to stay upright...well
mostly.